


When You Can Live Forever What Do You Live For

by Sam_Nook



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Study, Immortality, Stars, Talks of Death, america feels old, ancient, china and america friendship, china is old, could be seen as amechu, histober2020, inktober but its writing, inktober2020, prompt was ancient, reflective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 08:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Nook/pseuds/Sam_Nook
Summary: Alfred had trailed off as he stared at Yao. It was then, even through the darkness, that Yao could tell how worn Alfred looked. The bright twinkle in his eyes had dimmed, his shoulders sagged, and his lips were heavy with the weight of his words. Alfred had become one of them; tired, battered, and bitter.
Relationships: America & China (Hetalia)
Kudos: 13





	When You Can Live Forever What Do You Live For

**Author's Note:**

> Histober/Inktober 2020 Day Five: ancient

Perhaps the most significant difference between Alfred and Yao was their personalities. That's what Yao thought, at least. Maybe it had to do with their age or histories. Still, either way, Yao considered himself a collected, calm individual while Alfred was everything but that. 

Yao blamed it on Alfred's youth. Alfred was only a few centuries old, barely a fraction of Yao's thousands of years of life. But maybe, it had more to do with how they grew up. Yao had grown up in a time where humans were still grasping the idea of society. Alfred, well, he was the result of the greed of an empire. Yao had no one as a child; he couldn't count humans; even as a child, he knew much more than his own leaders. Alfred had the guidance of England, at least for a few decades. 

Still, Yao could admit, never out loud, that he enjoyed Alfred's personality. Perhaps, it was because it was a change from the melancholy, battered, exhausted forms of the other. Maybe it was because he had never found someone who could smile as naturally as Alfred.

Yao wondered if that had been the reason he had suddenly invited Alfred over to his home after the Word Meeting had concluded. For a long moment, there was silence, enough to make Yao regret his words. 

Alfred stared at him before smiling brightly. "Oh yeah, that sounds like a great plan!" 

For the longest time, Yao believed that Alfred wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so open, so bold, and Yao could never understand how someone could be that carefree about his emotions and thoughts. Perhaps, it was so ingrained into him to be on guard. Yao had never had the luxury to be so free. He wished he did. 

The sky was clear, and stars twinkled brightly above them. Yao found himself following Alfred outside. He watched Alfred silently before taking a seat next to him. Alfred was intently studying the dark sky above them, his face a shadow of its cheerful self. Yao's eyebrows furrowed, but he looked away when Alfred glanced in his direction. 

"They're the same." Alfred murmured, breaking the fragile silence between the two nations. He added after a pause, "the stars. They're the same at my place." 

Yao followed his gaze upwards and found himself staring at the stars that had been in the night sky longer than even Yao had been alive. For once, he was glad that there was something out there older than he was. It reminded Yao that there was a bigger picture to focus on; it humbled him in a way. 

"You know, the first time I came here, I was homesick. I had traveled to Europe already. Hell, I'd been to Africa too, but I'd never been so far from home. I was so homesick until that first night. I came outside and saw the stars, and then it was all okay. They make everything seem so close. I told myself then, one day, I'd be able to touch one."

Alfred gave Yao a light smile, his eyes hinting at a deeper meaning of wistfulness. "Of course, now I know it's kind of impossible to touch a star."

Yao jolted in his thoughts; he didn't like that. Alfred was too young to be looking like that. "But you were the first to touch the moon." He offered, giving Alfred a comforting smile.

"I'm getting too old to be dreaming about things like that anyways," Alfred replied, his gaze glued on the skies. 

Yao wanted to protest, but he couldn't. He had given up his own dreams centuries ago. 

Despite being quite open with his emotions, Yao could never recall a time when Alfred had cried in front of him. It wasn't until a stay at Alfred's Texas Ranch for a meeting that Yao had found Alfred in the stables crying over a calf that didn't make the night. Unsure what to do, Yao had only offered his shoulder for Alfred to cry on; it was the only thing he could do. Twenty minutes later, Alfred stood, apologized, and promptly disappeared into the hard labor required by morning chores. 

It wasn't until hours later when Alfred returned covered in sweat and dirt and showered; he approached Yao. Yao had understood, at least partly, death was often a challenging topic for them. It was something they knew too well, but could never understand. Yao had patiently waited until Alfred felt comfortable to speak. 

"Yao, have I ever told you about Davie?" Alfred couldn't look up, but Yao recognized the hint of grief in his voice. "No, I don't suppose I ever had the opportunity to tell you." 

When Alfred finally looked up, Yao desperately wanted to comfort Alfred, but it wasn't his place. This moment was for Alfred to figure out. All he could do was listen. 

When Alfred had finished, he gave Yao a look of gratitude and moved on. Yao never brought it up again. Alfred had a moment of weakness, and Yao couldn't bring himself to use it against Alfred. 

Years later, Yao once more found himself under the starry nights with Alfred. Things were tense between them, but Yao pushed past those feelings to focus on the moment. He needed too; being a nation meant being both human and country at the same time. 

"I feel old," Alfred murmured into the darkened silence, "sometimes being this is so hard..."

Alfred had trailed off as he stared at Yao. It was then, even through the darkness, that Yao could tell how worn Alfred looked. The bright twinkle in his eyes had dimmed, his shoulders sagged, and his lips were heavy with the weight of his words. Alfred had become one of them; tired, battered, and bitter. 

Yao didn't know what to say; he didn't know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent. 

"Even when I look at the stars, sometimes I don't know where home is." Alfred murmured, closing his eyes.

It was hard seeing something so young become ancient. 


End file.
